SIDDHII

Title: The Maddox Misconception
—a rich, messy, slow-burn drama soaked in secrets, obsession, and the kind of love that ruins and redeems.



Sky Maddox is thirty-two, filthy rich, drop-dead gorgeous—and a single mom to the most unattainable boy in school. Everyone assumes she’s Sebastian’s sister, his sugar mama, or his way-too-young stepmom. But the truth? She’s his mother. The kind who still asks if he’s eaten, sends him “I love you” texts mid-class, and believes her baby boy is the sweetest soul on earth.

But Sebastian Maddox—eighteen, six-foot-two, emotionally unavailable and devastatingly hot—is living a secret double life. He smokes. He rides a bike. He clubs. He hooks up with a new girl every weekend. And behind Sky’s back, he's becoming the one person she never recovered from:

Rain Chen.

The man who left her the moment she got pregnant. The man who taught Sebastian everything he shouldn’t be. The man who just walked back into their lives like a storm, aged like sin and dangerous as ever.

And Rain? He doesn’t want redemption. He wants Sky. He wants control. He wants to shatter the bond between mother and son just to prove that he still can. Because nothing infuriates him more than seeing Sky love Sebastian the way she once loved him.

As secrets spill, old wounds reopen, and love is twisted into rivalry, Sky must confront a brutal truth:

The boy she raised may be the shadow of the man who broke her.

And the biggest misconception of all?
That the Maddox family isn’t already falling apart.

The Maddox Misconception

Sitting there like he belongs. Like he didn't spend years rotting my mother from the inside out.

The moment I saw him, everything in me tightened. I didn't even blink. My fists curled before my brain caught up.

"You have five seconds to get out before I break your face."

Rain lifts his eyes slowly, lips curled. "Relax, son—"

"Don't call me that," I snap. "You don't get to."

Behind me, I hear Sky's breath catch. I don't have to turn around to know she's frozen. She always freezes around him. Doesn't scream. Doesn't fight. Just shakes.

And I hate that more than anything.

I step forward, placing myself between them like a wall. Like a blade.

Rain leans back, smirking. "This protective thing—you get it from her or me?"

I tilt my head. "You wanna talk about what I got from you?"

I take a step closer. "You told her who she could talk to. What to wear. Where to go. You had her checking her phone like it was wired to a bomb. You made her think love meant asking permission to breathe."

"You made her apologize for crying," I snarl. "Told her she was too emotional, too soft, too much."

"You kept her up all night with your temper, then gaslit her in the morning. Called her your sweetheart with your hand around her wrist. Told her nobody else would love her like you did—and you were right, because nobody else would hurt her like that."

Sky whispers my name behind me, but I don't stop.

"You made her think abuse was love. You trained her to stay. And now you walk in here like you're owed something? You think you can still touch her?"

I step in until we're chest-to-chest.

"She's not yours anymore. She never was."

Rain's voice drops. "You're just a kid. What do you think you know?"

I lean in, eyes wild, voice low. "I know enough."

She's curled into the edge of the couch, hands shaking, tears slipping down her cheeks quietly. That's her version of screaming. That's her trauma.

Rain scoffs. "You think she needs you?"

"I think she deserves someone who'd rather die than watch her break," I say, jaw tight. "Someone who doesn't make her cry and call it love. Someone who knows how to hold her without owning her."

I lower my voice so only he hears.

"And if you come near her again, I'll make sure you never touch anything soft for the rest of your miserable life."

Rain stares at me. Something dark flickers in his eyes. But this time?

And I walk straight to her, kneel beside her feet, and take her trembling hands in mine.

Her voice cracks. "You shouldn't have said all that—he's dangerous—"

"I'm more dangerous," I say simply. "He can't hurt you. Not while I'm alive."

I hold her like a shield would hold fire.

Because no one gets to break her again.

Raised By Fire, Not You